Desiderata
by GemmaJadeX-FilesSpade
Summary: "You beckoned & I came running. I just hope it's worth my time." He rasps. "It will be the most worthwhile thing to ever happen in your life." She promises. She lowers herself to the bed & drapes herself over his shoulders, breasts pushed against his back tantalizingly.
1. The Sound Of Silence

Essentially, the story is AU. Bedelia is like the female version of Hannibal. She kills the rude & tries to embarrass them in death. Although she does not remove any organs, she occasionally let's Hannibal take the tongues of her more... Shall we say, chatty victims. I'm going to ignore all of season two for the foreseeable future as I have not seen it yet (I live in England.) Once I have seen it, who knows.

This is a two chapter deal, unless people like it & want me to write more chapters.

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**"You beckoned & I came running. I just hope it's worth my time." He rasps.**

**"It will be the most worthwhile thing to ever happen in your life." She promises. She lowers herself to the bed & drapes herself over his shoulders, breasts pushed against his back tantalizingly.**

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Disclaimer: Whilst I love these characters dearly, I own non of them. Except the victims, they're mine.

Dedications go to my sweet darling little kitten, Hannibal, who sadly died a month ago.

Thanks go to IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow/Kat Harrcolys whose own story, 'Savor', inspired this one, who also helped me with this, giving me advice & reminding me that Bedelia is short & May need to sit her victim down to kill him.

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... She snaps his neck with a skilled precision borne of many years practice.

_This isn't even physically trying anymore. _She realizes. Necessity could account for that. The blonde woman raises her latex gloved hand to her head to run through her shining, glittery curls only to realize they were pulled back from her face to prevent losing even one precious strand. Providing the law with a concrete piece of evidence to identify her with was **not **on today's To-do list. Not only would He be disappointed in her, she'd be disappointed in herself.

_I suppose I don't __**need **__to kill these men. _She ponders. _But He does make life so frustratingly difficult at times that there's nothing else to be done. Men could be so rude anyway- When not raised correctly. _She mentally adds. This one even more so.

Answering his phone at the table in a classy French style Bistro whilst the waiter was attempting to talk him through the lunch menu. _So rude_. She sighs. The world would be so much better off without people like him in it. She had sent a flirtatious smile or two his way when her companion had briefly left to relieve his self & after they had paid the bill she had discreetly dropped a napkin into his lap with the nearest motels name on & a time. Although she did dislike cheapening herself, even for the greater good. After that, it was a matter of waiting. He had been right on time...

**A sharp, eager knock at the motel door sends her mind into a controlled flurry. **

_**Is everything ready for her special guest?**_

**"The door is unlocked. Do enter." She beckons.**

**It's not difficult to hide in the dark. The curtains are pulled closed to maintain an illusion of 'privacy' & only the dying bedside lamp is switched on. It seems fitting. He enters the room, his eyes greedily searching for her in the shadows. She steps up behind him & nudges the door shut with a sneaker clad foot, the sneakers tread melted to a smooth flat surface to avoid trekking in past indiscretions. He whirls around at the soft **_**snick **_**of the door latch sliding into place.**

**"You beckoned & I came running. I just hope it's worth my time." He rasps, in what he must believe is an alluring tone of voice, but sounds more like he's spent his entire life till now smoking a pack of cigarettes per day.**

**"It will be the most worthwhile thing to ever happen in your life." She promises, leading him to the musty, threadbare bed. He sits, obediently. It reminds her of a dog taught to sit in anticipation for a milk bone, she sees the metaphorical drool sliding down his person to pool at their feet. He doesn't see her slight shudder.**

**She lowers herself to the bed & drapes herself over his shoulders, breasts pushed against his back tantalizingly. He feels the rasp of latex against the cheap wool suit as she caresses his shoulders.**

**"Wha-"**

**She snaps his neck with a skilled precision borne of many years practice...**


	2. The Great Escape

"It's safe for you to come out now, Hannibal. He's quite dead."

The bathroom door creaks noisily & he is beside her in seconds, nose slightly wrinkled in distaste. Not for the act just performed, he had committed far graver sins, but for the man slumped against Bedelia. **His **Bedelia. The man was rude even in death! He lifts the dead-weight over his shoulder & carries it over to the plain table & chair by the front door. Bedelia catches on quickly that he would like to be out of this rat-trap motel as soon as possible & glides over, pulling out the chair for her victim to be positioned in it. When he's suitably propped up Bedelia checks through his pockets, searching for the one thing that can incriminate her if left behind. She holds it up in triumph once it is located in his inner left breast pocket. She also locates his wallet & after a flick through, discovers him to be Steve Matthews, father of two.

"Would you like his tongue, Hannibal?"

He considers for a moment.

"No. Thank you, Bedelia. But my kitchen is still plentiful from the last time we... Bonded." His eyes glimmer & she smirks at the shared memory.

"You're quite right, I can think of another purpose for it."

She reaches behind her & from her skirt waistband & pulls out a seemingly ordinary kitchen knife. It's only a small one, she doesn't need it for much this time. Flipping it over so she holds the blade against her palm, she offers it to Hannibal.

"You always took such enjoyment in this part." She tells him, permission of sorts. He nods in acquiescence & grasps the blades handle firmly. He then gently slides it from her loose fist, making sure not to nick her skin & spill any blood. To get this far & then taint their perfect record was not to be done.

"Thank you." His soft lilting tone, & inviting but firm body language beckoning her to stand next to & slightly behind him as he works. As he makes the first slice she presses herself against his arm, so much so that it's difficult to figure out where one ends & the other begins.

Although difficult, Bedelia keeps her eyes off of the beautiful specimen, wrist deep in the slab of useless flesh, & **on **said slab of useless flesh. When the blood floods his mouth & soaks Hannibal's also gloved hand, she reaches out & tilts The Flesh's head forward slightly. It comes out similar to a waterfall; all at once until is it is reduced a slow trickle. It pools in The Flesh's lap until the fabric of his trousers absorb it, leaving him with a dark red stain over his groin.

_Well, it's not like he cares any longer. _They both unknowingly think simultaneously.

"Would you mind terribly holding his mouth wide open, Mieloji?"

She complies, her heart swelling slightly at his use of the endearment. She knows he is trying to butter her up for when they continue their last discussion, but oh he does it so well! With the last few skilled flicks of the wrist, his hand nearly all the way down The Flesh's throat, he detaches the slippery muscle & presents it to her in a manner similar to how a house pet may present its master with a soggy ball or a headless mouse.

An unaccustomed rush of power hits her square in the chest, threatening to knock her to the floor as she watches his expression. Sycophantcy was a never before seen facet in Hannibal's personality, she looked forward to analysing it further. Instinctively she knew it could mean only one thing; he was truly remorseful for his actions towards her- That or he was planning her eventual demise & lulling her into a false sense of security. One could never be entirely positive with Hannibal.

She reaches out to him, as if to take the tongue, then bypasses it completely. Her hand reaching into his breast pocket, pulling out a long, sturdy looking pin. It's thin & pliable until you reach one end where it thickens out considerably, looking almost stamp-like, especially with a Chinese symbol engraved on the flat edge of it. It was the perfect touch, also aiding them with the positioning of The Flesh.

_It's such a bother when we have to leave before rigor sets in._

The needle pierces the skin of his neck just below the jawline & she raises his bent arm to just the right angle & runs it through the centre of his wrist, ensuring she hooks it behind the main vein. Once he is suitably positioned she bends the sharp end into an angle & slowly releases.

They wait with baited breath as the skin is pulled taut, but does not break & ruin Bedelia's beautiful imagery.

"Perfect." She breathes, looking to Hannibal. He nods in approval.

It is only then that she takes the tongue & places it in The Flesh's cupped hand.

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"I leave quickly & silently with my partner, leaving no trace of our being here aside from our most recent work of art. _This is my design._"

He jolts out of his trance like state, the first thing coming into his line of sight being the victim. He feels petite & delicate, but powerful. That's when it hits him.

He bolts out of the room & almost bowls over his superior.

"Will?"

"It's a couple!"

"Tell us something we don't know." Jack huffs.

"No, it's a couple. A man & a woman."

"Are you sure?"

Will glances down at his hands, almost expecting to see small, gentle fingers. His hands feel calloused & brutish compared to what he imagines of Her soothing touch.

"Positive."

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Mieloji is a Lithuanian term of endearment which loosely translates as my dear/darling/flame.


End file.
